


Just Breathe

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Phobias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8360452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: On an early mission, Daniel's fear threatens to overwhelm him.





	

You can do it, you can do it. Daniel kept the mantra in his head as he watched their guide on P3R-221 point to the rope bridge that spanned the very deep gorge ahead. 

"Tavis says the village is that way," Daniel translated almost automatically. "He, um, says the only way is over that bridge."

Jack looked over the top of his sunglasses at Tavis, then at Daniel, before giving a curt nod. 

"You trust him?" Jack asked.

"I do," Daniel said. "Sam said there was no reason to believe the Goa'uld have been here recently, and it appears there might have been a more advanced civilization that lived here."

"Okay then," Jack said, his hands relaxing a fraction on his weapon. 

Funny, Daniel thought, how well he'd gotten at reading Jack's subtle signs of command. And then he looked at that bridge, that very narrow bridge, and felt his heart speed up.

"We would be happy to meet the people of your village," Daniel said. Tavis smiled broadly and nodded once before turning towards the bridge.

You're being ridiculous, he told himself, as he followed Jack and Tavis. You've climbed pyramids, you've faced down System Lords and even died because of it. Surely you can bring yourself to cross a bridge.

He concentrated on counting his steps, on the sound of Sam's footsteps behind his. Daniel curled his hands into fists to still their shaking, or if he was completely honest, to keep Sam and Teal'c and Jack from seeing his fear. 

Tavis' people used the bridge all the time, he reminded himself. At least he thought they did. He imagined children scampering along the narrow ropes, surely a grown man with multiple PhD's could manage the same. 

You can do it, he said internally and thought of Sha're. He had to do it for her. Who knew what they'd find, what place could give them a clue to her whereabouts, or where the answer was to saving someone from the Goa'uld. 

Tavis stepped onto the bridge with no hesitation and Jack followed. It swayed—that was all that filled Daniel's vision. 

Tavis turned and smiled at Daniel. "Come, friend,' he called. "We will have a great feast to celebrate our new-found friendship." 

"Yes," Daniel said from a mouth gone dry. "We will follow."

"The bridge can hold the weight of a jatala," Tavis said. "It will certainly hold all of us."

"I understand," Daniel said and gave a half-hearted wave. Tavis shrugged, turned and kept going.

"Daniel?" Sam said from behind. "A problem?"

"No, no." Daniel turned to face her, smiled even though it was the last thing he felt like doing. "Tavis was explaining the strength of the bridge. I thought that, um, maybe only one or two could cross at a time."

Sam smiled. "I'm going to have to find out more about the construction." She waited and then gestured for Daniel to precede her.

"Yeah," Daniel said. He was sure someone would be able to see his heart beating through his t-shirt. 

He took the first step onto the bridge—the narrow rope securely anchored into rock. Behind him, Sam was muttering about weight and stress and who knew what else with Teal'c murmuring "indeed" to each of Sam's comments. 

He gripped the ropes tightly, little prickles of fiber digging into his hands. Don't look down, don't look down, look ahead, look up, you can do it, you'll be fine, think of Sha're, think of the other side. He made his feet move and kept his eyes on Jack's back far ahead as it was. His stomach did a somersault as Tavis left the bridge and the walkway beneath his foot bounced. He wasn't going to be able to hold on, he was going to fall...and oh god, he caught a glimpse of the sharp rocks of the gorge walls. Eyes ahead, eyes on the...you're being stupid, silly, keep walking, concentrate, one step at a time and it was moving, undulating beneath his feet. No, no wind, please don't let there be wind, and Jack stepped off. Okay okay halfway there. Sick, I'm going to be sick, stop, stop the movement. 

"Daniel?" Jack called to him. "You okay?"

Answer, answer him, damn it. Can't let them know, can't let Jack know. "Yeah. Fine."  
Okay voice didn't waver too much. One step, no, don't look down at your feet. Eyes ahead, eyes on Jack, eyes on the end. How many more steps, twenty? Thirty? Soon there. Please soon. Don't look down. Oh god, so far, the bottom is so far. There's a piece of fiber stuck in my hand—itches, burns, can't take my hand off. Both hands on the ropes. Soon there. Ten steps, nine...four, three, two, one. 

Daniel kept walking even as his feet left the bridge—past Jack, past Tavis until he could breathe again, until he could force himself to turn back and plaster a neutral expression on his face so that no one would see the fear. His t-shirt was soaked and the slight breeze he'd felt on the bridge chilled his skin. Someone said his name and he made himself concentrate to answer.

"Not far," he translated for the others. "Tavis says it isn't far." And all he could think about was the fact that to get home, he was going to have to do it again.

* * * *

"You sure you're okay?" Jack asked as they headed back towards the Gate, this time with a larger contingent than Tavis alone.

"Sure," Daniel told him. "What's with the sudden concern?" He knew he sounded petty in that reply.

Jack shrugged and looked slightly hurt by Daniel's curtness. "You seem...off."

"Off," Daniel repeated. "Everything's fine." Liar, liar pants on fire. Only a few minutes until they got to the bridge. 

Jack was watching him—he could feel it even as he forced himself to speak to Arlye, the youngest woman on the village council. Her hair was curly and dark and when she spoke, her voice was soft and strong. He thought of Sha're, her body and mind prisoner of the Goa'uld. He couldn't show weakness—couldn't let Jack decide he couldn't be out here searching for answers, searching for the way to bring down the Goa'uld.

Tavis once again led the way onto the bridge, then Aryle, and then Jack. An older man gestured for Daniel to follow him, and he nodded. It wasn't easier. He'd told himself it would be as he sat through the feasting and translated the negotiations. He'd lied to himself that going over the bridge the second time wouldn't make his heart go up into his throat or his mouth go dry or his legs feel like they were going to give out. He'd been wrong, oh so very very wrong. And this time? This time, he couldn't make himself look ahead. He tried, he tried so very hard, but his eyes stayed fixed on his feet, on the narrow ropes beneath his feet, on the small ribbon of a river deep in the gorge below, on the birds that circled on thermals beneath his feet, not above his head. 

He somehow got off, and Jack's hand was around his bicep holding him up. He shook it off, stalked away in anger, and Jack said nothing even as they said their goodbyes to their newfound allies and went through the Stargate.

* * * *

He was cold—he couldn't get warm. The water was hot, hotter than he usually liked it but it failed to warm him, and his stomach felt hard-- tied up in knots as it was. His throat burned with acid and he swallowed again and again to keep the bile down.

"You soon done?" Jack called from the locker room.

He opened his mouth to answer, but no sound left his mouth. His voice felt paralyzed, and he stared at his bare feet as water and soap suds circled the drain. 

"Daniel?" Jack was closer. 

He tried to respond but...nothing. There was nothing, only the fear that had plagued him. He grabbed the shower curtain as his vision temporarily blurred and his world seemed to tilt on its axis.

"Crap."

That was Jack, Jack's voice and someone had a towel around him and was gripping him tightly, leading him away from the shower.

"Head between your legs." Jack. Jack ordered him to do it, so he did.

"Breathe." Another order, so he did.

Another towel or maybe it was a robe was placed over him and he began to shake.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. He heard someone saying the word again and again and then to his horror, he realized he was doing it.

"Look at me," Jack said and because it was an order, Daniel brought his head up slowly and looked at the man knelt before him.

"Delayed reaction," Jack said. He sounded so self-assured, so calm, that Daniel could believe him. "Keep breathing."

Daniel blinked at him and felt his stomach turn. "Gonna..."

"Yep," Jack said and pushed a trash bag into his hands. 

The bile came up, and he felt his eyes tear up as he vomited again and again. Jack's hands were on his shoulders, supporting him, steadying him. 

He tilted to the side and Jack was there. He rested his head against Jack's shoulder—too tired to care about the propriety. 

Jack was silent, waiting and at some point, he took the trash bag from Daniel's lax fingers and disposed of it. 

Daniel forced himself to put on khakis, a shirt, although his fingers fumbled on the buttons the first time he tried. He put on socks, shoes, and leaned against his locker, mute and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a million years. His face, his whole body felt hot with embarrassment but he allowed Jack to lead him through the halls of the SGC, followed Jack to Jack's truck, and got in, put his trust in Jack to get him where he needed to be.

He wasn't surprised when they wound up at Jack's house—it wasn't a night for being alone.

Jack pointed to the couch, went in the kitchen to putter around, and not five minutes later, handed him a cup of coffee, heavily sweetened—not the normal way he drank it but what his stomach needed. The simple gesture made his eyes prickle with tears.

"So..."

"No," Jack said, and Daniel forced himself to look at his friend, yes, friend, not just commander.

"The bridge," Daniel said then. "Heights. I...have a thing about heights."

"Fear," Jack said.

"If you want to call it that." Daniel gripped the mug tighter, letting the heat warm his hands. "I've climbed pyramids, but...bridges. With, um, steep drops..." He shuddered.

Jack said nothing for a long while and Daniel kept hoping, hoping Jack would just pretend it hadn't happened.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jack asked.

Daniel looked at him in surprise. Of all things Jack might have said, he hadn't expected that. "I..." 

He shook his head and tried again. "I didn't think, well, I hoped it would never come up."

"It did today."

"Yeah." Daniel looked at the coffee, unable to look at Jack. "I...I can't risk not being able to...Sha're." His throat tightened again and he brought the mug to his lips, hid his emotion. He kept his eyes down, fixed on the fabric of his khakis. 

Jack sighed, took a swig of his beer, and Daniel wondered if he shouldn't have told Jack he'd rather have beer than coffee. At least alcohol would dull the pain, the embarrassment, the ache that never quite left when he thought of Sha're.

"Okay," Jack said. "Here's the thing. I'm your CO in addition to being your friend. And as your CO, I need you to tell me things, Daniel. I need you to let me know your weaknesses as well as your strengths."

Daniel dared to look up, even though he was afraid of what he might see—condemnation, disgust, the sure knowledge that he was the weak link. Jack looked back and there was nothing in his eyes but concern and warmth.

"I..."

"So we're good then?" Jack asked. 

Daniel raised his coffee mug in answer while Jack grinned and raised his beer bottle in answer. "Yeah, we're good." 

Jack turned on the TV, skipped over sports, skipped over news, and stopped on a documentary about the development of the English language. Daniel closed his eyes, letting words wash over him, finding comfort in the familiarity of language and things he knew. His body felt heavy and the mug was taken from his fingers.

"Sleep," Jack told him.

So Daniel did.


End file.
